Promise
by starlight2005
Summary: Some part of him trusted Yami to be there, on that doorway to meet his stare, to smile at him—or scowl, whichever was more convenient. But those parts were disappointed. Yami was in his room now, letting his ‘hikari’ build a deck. It was troubling.


**A/N: This is my entry to the July challenge in Fragile Balance. We were to write something about the lyrics we've chosen and here's mine. If you guys haven't noticed, I'm posting this as a… :gulps: compensation for not updating the other two (especially Blood is Red). It's appalling, really, because I managed to write seven pages for a challenge when I couldn't finish how many pages of a chapter. :dies: **

**So sorry, everyone. I'm still writing—fumbling with the chapter, to be honest—the last part of Blood's Chapter 6. Hopefully, this one suits to your taste… somehow. If not… uhm… yeah, I'll just burn—I mean, **_**cross **_**the bridge when I get there, right? Right. **

**Okay, I'm going now because I really am in serious need of sleep (haven't been sleeping for a while, is why). Midterm exams tomorrow. **

**Review, please? **

* * *

**Promise **

_"What have I got to do to make you love me? What have I got to do to make you care? What do I do when lightning strikes me, and wake to find that you're not there?" – Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word, Elton John _

It started innocently enough.

There were several arguments, first—so many of them, in fact, that counting which of those he had won and which he had lost became a tedious task. Their wits had clashed for quite a time, baiting and imposing, insulting and even questioning each other's abilities. It was so… typical of them. Then the other's frigid and stubbornness-ebbing eyes narrowed and zeroed in on Yami's narrowed gaze. Somewhere along the way, while both of them were busy outmaneuvering the other, he had breached into a sensitive issue. Seto Kaiba glared at him as if there were no tomorrow and for the first time it was Yami who had to look away. A part of him had to wonder why. It was Kaiba's fault. It was Seto who decided to start another round and insult him. Why should Yami even be the slightest concerned should he strike a nerve? They were rivals, weren't they? Why do they fight and bicker and outdo the other? But that wasn't the point. In the first place, Yami could have easily ignored the overbearing man and live in peace; yet, he didn't. He could even have left Seto Kaiba to whatever fate he had fallen into—Duelist Kingdom, Noah Kaiba, DOMA, etc.—and yet, he was still there "defending his title".

Again and again and again, he was there. Why?

Because whatever may happen and no matter what really did happen, Seto Kaiba somehow manages to keep him there. For some unknown reason, instead of merely defending a title he really had no great interest in the first place (seriously, because winning may be a good thing but the troubles that came with it weren't worth it), Yami needed his rival the same way his rival needed him. They were rivals and they have their lapses; but they admittedly compliment each other. Of course, Yami was not going to admit that out loud. That was simply ridiculous. The former pharaoh could simply deny it but he was sure that of all the people in the world, there would always be one person who will definitely question his decisions. There will always be one person who will openly oppose him and tell him that he was wrong. Seto Kaiba had never been his friend and he had never really been an apparent ally but the CEO clearly supported him at times, even on those rare ones when Yugi couldn't understand what was going on. As much as he loathed to admit it, the brunet was the only one who would slap him should he be in a nightmare and wake him without fervently apologizing for 'hurting' him. It was weird: that of all, Seto was the one person Yami could rely on.

And he had fallen for his rival.

Cue in the wails and the screams of helplessness and fear; put in the panicking crowd and the crying children. It was probably the end of the world and yet, he couldn't stop. The more practical side of him, the one that knows just how many minutes and hours were left until he and his aibou begin the Ceremonial Duel, has cleverly disowned him. It called him a traitor, a spineless twit and for crying out loud, why Seto Kaiba?! Why an exact replica of his High Priest? It was as if time was no effective teacher. Once upon a time, a brunet 'stole' his heart—or whatever's the proper term for it, anyway—and that person simply tore it apart. Atemu died then. The end. But history was repeating… and with almost the same characters at that. And he allowed it. Does he ever learn? Then again, it wasn't that difficult, was it? Seto Kaiba looked almost the same as his cousin. His pride was evident in his cold blue eyes and his very posture emanated power. The CEO was not his High Priest. Oh, no. And it was perhaps that slight dissimilarity that lured him into thinking that maybe, just maybe this time, things wouldn't end the same way it did in the past. All Yami needed to do is to base his thoughts and wishes with facts. How?

"Funny, I never expected anyone with fate-foretelling duels and that bunch of crap to be awake right now."

Yami turned around to meet Seto's amused smirk. His eyebrow naturally raised in question. "And I never expected anyone whose intentions are far from 'fate-foretelling duels' to be in the same boat as I am," he answered back. The King of Games slightly shivered as the night breeze swept past him. He should have brought his coat. The only noise came from the other duelist's footsteps, almost-silent taps on the wooden floor of the boat. It didn't fail to rattle the former pharaoh's senses anyway (and was that not pathetic of him, to be affected by this too much? Well, shut up.) Yami watched the other lean on the railing beside him and gaze at the water below. It was quite clear—too much, in fact—that Seto Kaiba was mulling about something. And he didn't need any distraction at the moment. A ceasefire, it seemed… wasn't that a relief? Yami shook his head and started to make his way back inside. "Where do you think you're going?" Kaiba asked all of a sudden. They looked at each other, for the first time without anything at stake. They weren't glaring or secretly cursing the other with defeat. They were looking; as if the blinking and the casual flicker of gazes were not new to them when actually, they were. It didn't seem to matter to Yami, who sighed. "I'm not going to disturb you tonight, Kaiba. See you tomorrow," he replied.

A hand on his arm stilled him. "Yes, Kaiba?"

Seto retracted his hand and let the other go. "You are prepared to compete with Yugi tomorrow, aren't you?"

"Whether I am prepared or not is really not your business now, is it, Kaiba?" There was many a thing to be confused about and this one… it confused him a lot. Yami admitted he has feelings for this blue-eyed brunet before him, yet—excuse him while he laugh at his own mixed feelings—he was once again baiting the other. It had been a habit, always the same thing they do whenever they meet. He supposed that he shouldn't be the least surprised that this was how he treated his rival-slash-loved-one.

"I refuse to inherit the title from someone who allowed his defeat." So typical Kaiba; so very familiar.

"If I lose, then you won't have a choice, will you?" Yami had begun walking back inside and was almost near the door when the other forced him to turn around and face him.

"What is wrong with you? If you refuse to win, then you might as well forfeit now, Yami!" Seto was infuriated.

"What does it matter to you?" Yami quipped, "I would think that my defeat will be your source of happiness, Kaiba. Why should you care?" Without him noticing, Seto had backed him up in a wall, the other's eyes narrowed in fury and disbelief. He obviously refused to accept whatever may happen the next day. To Yami, it was either because he was just too proud to defeat another Motou… or something else. He dared not wish on the latter especially when at the moment, he—of all people—should be the most realistic.

"You really don't get it, do you?" the brunet retorted. "You hold the title. You defeated me. And I'm the only one, the only fucking one that can defeat you!"

Yami paused and sighed. Even up to now, the other was still thinking about this? "I can't cure you from what seems to be your obsession but piece of advice if I may? Move on! I may lose to aibou tomorrow and you can't definitely do anything about it. So please, before we start fighting again, I'm requesting you to let me go this instant." The thought that they were bickering like a newly-married couple should amuse him to an extent, Yami knew, but the humor was sadly missing at the moment. No, it seemed to have died. "I shouldn't even waste my time with you," he whispered.

"Well, you are."

Silence permeated. Their positions were still the same, with Yami trapped in between the other and a wall. The night breeze was cooler now and instinctively, Yami shivered once again. It reminded him just how much time he had left before it was Yugi's turn to choose his own deck for tomorrow's duel. Had he wanted another comical tragedy (oxymoronic, don't you think?), he would have chosen this particular moment—on his probable last night in modern times—to finally expose his feelings. Just to end it all, to settle all things. He would have chosen this moment as an opportunity to let the other turn him down and shun him out, as was expected. Yami would have welcomed it even though inwardly, he could start hating himself for it. The angst and the heartbreak were simply not fit for him and he didn't want to be bothered about those things anymore. Once was enough, wasn't it?

"What if I lose even when you, yourself know that I've exhausted every possible measure to win?" He asked of Kaiba. It was probably the almost-hushed, earnest tone that Yami had unconsciously applied that made Seto loosen the grip. Seto couldn't answer at first, casually glancing at the door as if anyone could easily walk in on them. It was admittedly a difficult question to answer, especially to someone who refused to see anything beyond defeat. Defeat was defeat; it was a loss and nothing else. So what were attempts at winning, then? What was a close-call match called? Kaiba honestly didn't know, and so he let go. His grip was lax and Yami easily slipped past him.  
"Why do you ask me this if this is none of my business in the first place?"

Yami stared at him and sadly smiled. "Just curious."

It was Seto's turn to scoff in disbelief. "Ridiculous."

"Believe what you want. I don't care."

"Oh, you don't?"

"No, I don't," and suddenly, being this close was too much. As the night deepened, so was the realization that there really was a high possibility of him losing in the morning. No longer was the night as peaceful as before. It no longer separated him from reality even for an inkling of time. Reality was before him—literally and metaphorically speaking. Seto was it. He could have gone all night pretending that tomorrow was one more duel to finish, with no great stake at risk at all. He could have gone all night thinking about how doomed he was in terms of his feelings for a certain brunet had the same person never bothered him. When he should be cursing the interruption, he found out that he was actually grateful for it. It drew a line between what he couldn't get and what he could, at least… then again, whatever were the things that he could get weren't that appealing anymore. He was the true King of Games, no point in denying that, but he couldn't win tomorrow. He had the title, not a life. Yugi had that; and it was only proper to go back to his own life and time. It was his 'fate'. It was his destiny, which Seto Kaiba seemed to hate so much. "Thank you."

The melancholy in the other's voice caught Seto aback. They were arguing, weren't they? The significant drop in mood was not that easy to ignore, especially when the only mood he had been accustomed to around the other was resentment and something else. What that something was, was not that important. It didn't matter anyway, Yami was likely going to let his so-called destiny control him. Besides, there was no use in voicing them out when the other clearly—adamantly, at that—voiced out the exact opposite of it. "Why are you thanking me?" He asked, instead.

"For not hating me for this."

And Yami had reached up, gently pulling the taller duelist down for a kiss. Somber carmine eyes closed, as if fearing the reaction another pair of eyes contained. Neither of them knew who deepened the kiss only that it had been deepened and that before long, Yami was in between the cold, hard wall and the warm body of his rival. He had cried out at the impact but it was stifled by the plundering mouth on his, and though it was really becoming so hard to breathe, oxygen didn't seem to be that important. It was minutes later, moments after Seto finally took control of the kiss, that the lack of oxygen supply became unbearable. Seto pushed away and shook his head, ridding himself from the daze he was unconsciously falling into. It took him a few seconds to be able to speak. "Why?"

The other didn't look at him. "I'm unfortunately in love with you, Seto."  
The CEO's eyes widened at the confession, aware of how at the same time, Yami was quietly nibbling on his lower lip in nervousness and trembling. Deserts were known to be extremely cold at night, after all. Seto blushed upon noticing the faint spray of red on the other's cheeks Of course it wouldn't take long before he also realizes that the other was wearing naught but his trademark pants and sleeveless top. A response to Yami's confession, Seto, admittedly, didn't have any. As he removed his trench coat and wordlessly wrapped it on his rival's shoulders, he felt Yami's eyes flicker at him. "I… I'm not going to say it back," the brunet instinctively replied. The immediate stiffening of Yami's shoulders were indicative enough as to how he was affected by the response. Then again, Seto could think of nothing else to answer such a confession with.

"Then don't. It doesn't matter."

"Yami, look—"

"Nii-sama?"

Their responses were sadistically amusing at some point. At the sound of Mokuba's voice, Seto had stepped away as if the mere sight of his rival before him repulsed him; and Yami did the same. They both turned to the newcomer, whose grey eyes had initially widened at the sight of his brother and his brother's rival so close together. Same eyes twinkled with knowing a bit later and its owner smiled in approval at both of them but it was short-lived. Yami had known that his confession would change nothing. He was only fooling himself should he even think that his rival could actually return his feelings. Then again, the kiss certainly belied some truth on that thinking. The confusion came back and along with it came the knowledge that despite taking the risk, this was one of those 'duels' that the King of Games won't win. (Tomorrow's not included yet).

"I should go. Aibou needs to re-construct his deck." Yami said and broke the silence. "Goodnight, Kaiba; take care, Mokuba." And he walked inside, unaware of the exchange between the two brothers. Well, at least he knew now. Sure, the fact that the more realistic side of him was right— that this time was not different from before because his heart was just as stolen and just as broken as it was in the past—was somehow relieving but it was becoming more and more painful.

"Yami!"

The former pharaoh stopped. When they were face-to-face, Seto reflexively wrapped the too-big trench coat tighter around the other. "Don't lose tomorrow."

Yami smiled at him, sadly at that but it was a smile, nevertheless. "I'll do my best."

"Did you tell him, nii-sama?" Mokuba's voice broke through the elder Kaiba's reveries. At Seto's curt shake of the head, Mokuba frowned and hugged his older brother. "Why? He was right there!"

"I couldn't."

"Nii-sama!"

"I'll tell him, okay, Mokie? I will," Seto's eyes fell on the empty doorway. Some part of him trusted Yami to be there, on that doorway to meet his stare, to smile at him—or scowl, whichever was more convenient. But those parts were disappointed. Yami was in his room now, letting his 'hikari' build a deck that would perhaps defeat his own. The more Seto thought about it, the more he concluded that it was more of Yami committing suicide. It troubled him. "I'll tell him after he wins tomorrow."

Yet Yami didn't win. His god cards were defeated by Yugi's simple strategies and really, the King of Games was most proud of his aibou for winning. It wasn't because Yami didn't value his life, nor was it even because he didn't care if he lost. Yami was Yugi's self-appointed guardian and he had to make sure that he wouldn't stand in the way when his aibou would finally claim his title and take control of his life once more. His aibou was a strong duelist and he was stronger as a person. Yami was happy about that. But his loss also meant that as a former pharaoh, Yami had to move on to the next life. And that life, it seemed, didn't have Yugi, the gang, Mokuba or Kaiba on it. There were only the people from his time: Shimon, Ishizu, Karimu, Mahado, Seth… he could at least be happy that he was meeting them again.

But as the doors opened, revealing every familiar character in his past life, Yami hesitated. He waited and stole a glance at the teen who deliberately separated himself from the rest of the group. Seto Kaiba never spoke when the duel was on-going, and until now, there was still nothing to be heard from him. Yami smiled in his usual way as if Seto's blatant ignoring was of no significance. And then he walked into his destiny. He may not have Seto Kaiba's love, or at least his friendship, but well… he had memories of him. He could survive on them, couldn't he? It isn't such a big—

"Yami."

The former pharaoh's eyes widened. He was that surprised that when he turned around, planning to meet the other's gaze, he had to take a step backwards just to accommodate the rather imposing figure of his rival a few inches from him. Yami's brows furrowed. "What the—Seto?"

"I'm sorry." Seto whispered and pulled him in for one last kiss. All his apologies, all the lapses that he failed to fill in, all those things that could have happened between them, Seto poured in that lone kiss. The CEO's eyes charmed the other's and hypnotized him, bound him as if such bind can never be broken. And Yami responded, closing his eyes as the other had done.

"Yami, the door! Hurry!"

Penalty for avoiding it was a cursed death. No Egyptian in his time defied fate, especially the pharaoh, who was the god on earth, himself. Yugi knew that enough to force his 'partner' to break the kiss. Yami sighed, patting Seto's cheek tenderly before moving away. "Yami—"

"I know. I'll wait." And he went in, finally. The door slammed shut, separating him from his blue-eyed rival. For how long they would stay that way, torn apart like a couple in an age-long, defying dance, Yami—no, Atemu—Atemu no longer knew. He was in the past. If it was any consolation, at least time didn't exist in his dimension now.

END


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